Tuesday, March 28, 2017

News of the World

I love Westerns.  I always have but it doesn't seem to be a popular genre these days.  So, when I heard about News of the World, by Paulette Jiles, I knew that I had to read it.  It did not disappoint.

Set in Texas shortly after the Civil War, News of the World chronicles the adventures of Captain Jefferson Kyle Kidd, a seventy-something veteran of three wars, as he journeys across the state in order to return Johanna to her relatives.  Johanna, now ten years old, was captured by the Kiowa Indians when she was six.  Her parents and sister were killed in the attack, and she was adopted by the tribe and raised as a Kiowa.  Needless to say, she is not a willing participant in the journey at the outset, wanting to stay with the only family she now remembers.

I absolutely loved how their relationship evolved from wary distrust to love and loyalty and understanding.  They became comrades in arms.  They became a girl and her beloved grandfather, and Captain Kidd demonstrates some of the best parenting practices ever.

I also loved Captain Kidd's job--a former printer, he now reads the news of the world to residents of remote Texas towns.  His readings are paid-for performances, where locals pay a dime to hear about polar expeditions, scientific discoveries, the doings of royalty, and sundry other articles of interest.  I know that people like Mark Twain and Charles Dickens traveled around, doing readings of their work, but I never thought about how reading a newspaper from New York or London would provide an evening's entertainment.  It makes sense, though.  A precursor to CNN.

As the pair travels from Wichita Falls to San Antonio in the springtime, they encounter a variety of people, some of whom help them along the way and others who fight them to the death. They also encounter beautiful countryside and starry nights.  I haven't spent much time in Texas, but reading about spring in the hill country made me want to pack up the SUV and head south for a few weeks, to see the flowers and watch the birds.

Finally, there is a gun battle that the Captain and Johanna are involved in that is probably the single best Western frontier battle scene I've ever read.  The ingenuity of Johanna is simply delightful, and that is high praise considering gun battle scenes are not exactly my cup of tea.  Cliches aside, it is wonderful!

Monday, March 20, 2017


Medicus, by Ruth Downie, was a thorough treat.  Part of my Reading Northumberland project, Medicus is the first in a mystery series featuring Roman army doctor Gaius Petrius Ruso, serving in Britannia in the mid-second century.  It takes place in Deva (aka modern Chester) shortly after Trajan's death and just before Hadrian's visit, during which he orders the building of his wall.

I did start to read this novel a few years ago and stopped reading only a quarter of the way into it when I got interested in another topic.  I'm so glad that I revisited the book as I prep for my Hadrian's Wall Path hike this July, as it was so much fun to read.

I enjoyed the central character, Ruso, who is well-meaning but plagued with problems as his good intentions get in the way of career advancement, familial obligations, and medical integrity.  I enjoyed reading about his life on the Roman frontier, his roommate and medical colleague, the charming Valens, and his adjustment to his move from his last posting in Africa to the very different town in Britain.  Downie provided a good bit about the remnants of the Druid religion, and I liked visiting the villages of the Britons.  She did a good job of showing both sides of the story--the Roman occupiers and the Britons, some who resist and some who assimilate.

The mystery was interesting too--involving slaves, prostitution, graft, murder, and love.  What more do you need for a thumping good mystery? Oh, yes, good writing and great dialogue--Downie provided both.

I definitely plan to read more in the series for fun and knowledge as I prep for my trek.

Thursday, March 16, 2017

Tournament of Books - personal update

I decided late to jump on the Tournament of Books bandwagon and so only read a couple of the contenders.

I started with We Love You, Charlie Freeman, and also read My Name is Lucy Barton.  I'm currently reading Hag-Seed (modern retelling of Shakespeare's The Tempest, by Margaret Atwood, which was on the long list but didn't make the cut for the short list brackets), and am still planning on reading The Underground Railroad, Homegoing, and possibly The Mothers and Grief is a Thing with Feathers.

So looking at a head-to-head competition between the two I've finished, I definitely preferred Elizabeth Strout's Lucy Barton over Kaitlyn Greenidge's Charlie Freeman.

Charlie Freeman is a debut novel and it shows--Greenidge has a powerful story with difficult themes and challenging characters, and it seems that she is never quite able to manage all of those elements cohesively.  After I finished the book, I read a couple of reviews that talked about the book being messy, and I agree with that.  There were significant parts that I just didn't get--in particular, the characters of the mother and the younger sister baffled me. I could never make sense of either one.  Likewise, the institution where the family went to live was something I never believed in.  I liked the premise of the story, and I liked the complexity of the characters, but the story-telling was clumsy.

Not so with Lucy Barton.  I loved the structure of the novel--the way Lucy tells the story of her life through her conversations with her mother.  I found the mother borderline believable, primarily because I cannot imagine any mother acting the way she did towards her child, but that could be my own narrow view of the world.  But the writing was great, the dialogue realistic, and the story-telling superb.  It was all flashback with little action, and yet the story was taut with tension.

On to Hag-Seed--in a word, it is great.  I usually don't care for modern retellings, though I have done this myself with some Austen works, but this is spot on, thoughtful, with superb characters and dialogue and it reflects a profound and sensitive reading of The Tempest.  I'm half-way done, so I can't say for sure how I'll feel, but for sheer reading enjoyment, I pick The Hag-Seed.  After reading Atwood's The Blind Assassin and disliking it, I jumped to the conclusion that I didn't like Atwood. Now, I considering reading some of her other works.

It'll be interesting how I rate all the books in this year's Tournament.  I'll keep you posted!  Anyone else reading along these lines?

Friday, March 10, 2017

The Marches: A Borderland Journey between England and Scotland

I read The Marches: A Borderland Journey between England and Scotland by Rory Stewart as part of my Reading Northumberland project.

For the most part, I really enjoyed it.  Stewart, a UK politician who was an MP during the writing of the book, details two long-distance walks. The first is an East-to-West trek along the Hadrian's Wall Path while his 93-year-old father meets him at various points along the path for a meal or chat.  The second is a much longer trek from his cottage in the Lake District to his father's house in Scotland. The third section of the book involves his father's death and funeral.

In the course of all three sections, Stewart talks about his and his father's careers, in the UK and abroad, politically and militarily, in the case of his father.  He also delves into the history of the region, and discusses the socio-political forces at work over time, from the point of view of his own Conservative political stance.

I enjoyed the middle section the most.  I was a bit annoyed during the Hadrian's Wall section because I wanted to hear more about the Wall and the walk and the environment, but he kept on veering off into his time in Afghanistan or his father's time in Malaysia and other foreign posts or his childhood or his education.  Not that that wasn't interesting, but it wasn't why I was reading the book.

The middle section, however, was a more cohesive narrative that included the history, geography, ecology, and philosophical musings about the nature of borders and boundaries, natural and political. I learned a lot and appreciated Stewart's descriptions of the landscape and villages and farms and cities as well as the farmers, laborers, and others he encountered.

I think the single most interesting thing I learned was about the Highland Boundary Line, the geological demarcation between the Highlands and Lowlands of Scotland.
Just beyond my father's fences, and the suburbs of Crieff, lay the starkest geological division in Britain. Four hundred million years ago, two continents--once 4,500 miles apart--had collided. A little later, two further plates had struck, slipped, and sheared, driving tight ripples diagonally across Scotland. The older schists and slates of rock to the north-west rose to form the Grampian Mountains. This chain--200 million years older than anything in southern Scotland or England--was the beginning of the Highlands. At its foot to the south was the rift valley of red sandstone, once an ocean, in which our fields stood--a separate geology that stretched a hundred miles long and fifty miles south, forming a separate culture.
Here's a map that shows the location of the Highland Boundary Fault.

I found the last section heavy going, and ended up skimming the very end.

I really enjoy travel books and trekking stories, and those parts of The Marches were quite good. However, the entire book read like a politician's position paper that would vault him onto the next stage of his career.  Not to mention that politically I'm not very sympathetic to the Conservative cause as a general rule.

So, a mixed reaction.  I read the book wanting to get something different from what the author wanted to give.  Sometimes that happens.

Next up in non-fiction is The Steel Bonnets: The Story of the Anglo-Scottish Border Reivers, by George MacDonald Fraser. I'm also reading Medicus, another Roman Britain fiction, and have a few both fiction books on deck.

Wednesday, March 01, 2017

The Dinner

I really enjoy the TuesdayBookTalk Group at GoodReads--it's a small group but I learn about and read books with this group that I wouldn't normally either know about or prioritize, and I've really found some gems this way.

Our February genre was thriller and the book we read was The Dinner, by Herman Koch, translated from Dutch by Sam Garrett.

Two couples, consisting of two brothers and their wives, get together over dinner at an Amsterdam restaurant, to discuss how to handle the serious trouble that their teenage sons are in. In the course of the meal, the narrator, Paul, provides the backstory, not only to the crime that the sons have committed, but to his own mental health, as well as the relationships between himself, his wife and son, and his politician brother and his family.

Doesn't sound much like a thriller?  Think again.  I found my heart racing every bit as much as when I read Girl on the Train as the horror beneath this "happy family" slowly but inexorably surfaced.

In the end, I found this story to be more about the nature of evil and the exploitation of the mentally ill than I about anything else.  Yes, the story touches on parenting and protecting those we love as well as superficiality, pretension, and ambition, but all that seemed trivial when all was revealed at the end of the story.  Truly chilling...and well-written, well-crafted, and very tight.  A good book.

Tuesday, February 21, 2017

Top Ten Tuesday: Books I Loved Less/More Than I Thought I Would

Today's Top Ten Tuesday, hosted by The Broke and the Bookish, is all about books that exceed or fall short of expectations.  Here's my off-the-top-of-my-head list...decided to split the 10 in two.

Books Loved Less

  1. Game of Kings, by Dorothy Dunnett - I just abandoned this book.  I ended up really not liking the main character and I felt that despite the plot machinations, the story seemed fairly predictable.  After reading over 200 pages, I felt justified in deciding I'd given it a fair shake.
  2. Sweetness at the Bottom of the Pie, by Alan Bradley - this series has gotten rave reviews but I really couldn't stand the precocious girl who was the main character.
  3. Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norrell, by Susanna Clarke - never finished it.  Got halfway through and was bored to brain fatigue.
  4. Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea, by Jules Verne - yawn...
  5. Something Wicked This Way Comes, by Ray Bradbury - exhausting and overblown.

Books Loved More

  1. Little Women, by Louisa May Alcott - somehow I never read this as a child or teen, and so was surprised by how good it was for a skeptical, adult reader.
  2. The Girl on the Train, by Paula Hawkins - I wanted to see what the fuss was about and was swept away.
  3. Never Let Me Go, by Kazuo Ishiguro - I was totally unprepared for the story, but found it compelling. Distopian fiction is not a genre I like, but this story really worked.
  4. Germinal, by Emile Zola - what a fantastic book, I was expecting a dull book but was overwhelmed by the story and the fully developed characters.
  5. Miss Marjoribanks, by Margaret Oliphant - what a delightful character in this sleeper of a Victorian novel.

Sunday, February 12, 2017


I like to read multiple books at one time, some audio in the car, some Kindle, some paper, some for online reading groups, some for personal reading projects, some for comfort.

Here's what I'm reading these days.

The Dinner by Herman Koch (Sam Garrett, translator) - for GoodReads TuesBookTalk group.  I voted for the thriller genre and this was the book that the group picked--I think I voted for it too.

The Game of Kings, by Dorothy Dunnett - first in her Lymond Chronicles series.  I think I'm going to love this series--Lymond already reminds me of Lord Peter Wimsey. Part of my Reading Northumberland project.

Sapiens: A Brief History of Humankind, by Yuval Noah Harari - a birthday gift from my brother Mark, who raved about it. Non-fiction, slow read, by well-written and utterly fascinating.

My Name is Lucy Barton, by Elizabeth Strout - my current audio book and on the shortlist for the Tournament of Books.  I'm really liking this one.

Speaking of Tournament of Books, I finished my first book on the shortlist, We Love You, Charlie Freeman.  I really wanted to like it, and I did in parts, but I just didn't believe in the characters.

The audio book I recently finished was Sidney Chambers and the Shadow of Death, by James Runcie.  The first in the series of books that the Grantchester TV show is based on.  I thought it was a good book with a great main character and interesting mysteries for the vicar to solve in 1950s Cambridge.

Happy reading!

Saturday, February 04, 2017

The Eagle of the Ninth

From Luguvallium in the west to Segedunum in the east, the Wall ran, leaping along with the jagged contours of the land; a great gash of stone-work, still raw with newness. Eighty miles of fortresses, mile-castles, watch-towers, strung on one great curtain wall, and backed by the vallum ditch and the coast-to-coast Legionary road; and huddled along its southern side, the low sprawl of wine-shops, temples, married quarters, and markets that always gathered in the wake of the Legions. A great and never-ceasing smother of noise: voices, marching feet, turning wheels, the ring of hammer on armourer's anvil, the clear calling of trumpets over all. This was the great Wall of Hadrian, shutting out the menace of the North.

This is the beginning of chapter 11 of The Eagle of the Ninth, by Rosemary Sutcliff, and part of my Northumberland reading project, in prep for my walk along Hadrian's Wall this summer, and it is precisely why I wanted to read the book in the first place.  There is a marvelous sense of place throughout the book, as the hero, Marcus Aquila, travels from Exeter (Isca Dumnoniorum) in the south to Silchester (Calleva Atrebatum), up to Chilurnium (on the Wall near Corbridge) and then on to Caledonia (the Highlands of Scotland).

According to Wikipedia:

The Eagle of the Ninth is linked by the Aquila family dolphin ring and listed here in fictional chronological order. (They were not written as a series by the author.)

  • The Eagle of the Ninth
  • The Silver Branch
  • Frontier Wolf
  • The Lantern Bearers
  • Sword at Sunset
  • Dawn Wind
  • Sword Song
  • The Shield Ring

I enjoyed The Eagle of the Ninth immensely--I found it in the YA section of my library, but I didn't let that throw me off.  I loved both the hero, Marcus, a young Roman Centurion from Etruria who comes to live with his uncle in Calleva after he is badly injured in a battle at Isca Dumnoniorum.  There he meets and saves a young Briton gladiator, Esca, makes him his slave, and then makes him his friend.

Together they go on a quest to find out what happened to the Ninth Legion, which marched into the mists of the north and never marched back. It was a first rate historical adventure story and I learned a lot about Roman Britain, the customs and religions of both the conquering Romans and the rebellious Britons, the landscape, and the smell of the air and the feel of the landscape. I will definitely read a few more in the series if not all of them, and I'm looking forward to the movie version, The Eagle, which came out in 2011.

I found myself referring repeatedly to the internet for help with Roman site names, although Sutcliff did provide a map at the beginning of the book and a list of place names at the end.  Here's one that I liked.

Wednesday, January 25, 2017

Time and Chance - Henry II, Eleanor of Aquitaine, and Becket

I love historical fiction and Sharon Kay Penman is one of my favorite historical fiction authors. Her books are well-written, her characters interesting and three-dimensional but of their time not ours, and she is a first rate storyteller.

I just finished Time and Chance, the second in her series about the early centuries of the last millenium, and it picks up just where its predecessor, When Christ and His Angels Slept, left off. Henry II of England and Eleanor of Acquitance are the 12th century power couple--passionately in love, soulmates and astute leaders, strong willed, intelligent, and attractive.  They also have lots of children--heirs and spares as well as daughters to marry off advantageously

Time and Chance tells the story of their estrangement--it describes how this well-matched couple started along the path that took them  to the point where they end up at each other's throats.  The fly in the ointment, or perhaps the poison in the well, is none other than Thomas Becket.  He was Henry's closest friend and confident, hunting companion and man about town. And then Henry decided to make him Archbishop of Canterbury, against Eleanor's wise counsel, and Becket became Henry's greatest enemy, causing him years of strife and anguish, trouble and anxiety.

Penman does a wonderful job of leaving the personality and motivation for Becket's about-face ambiguous.  She implies a jealous ambition, a mental instability, and a personality disorder, but we never get inside Becket's mind to know what is going on there.  We only see how his actions and sanctimonious approach to his job undercut Henry's peace of mind, which leads to his seeking solace with the fair Rosamond, and the destruction of his relationship with Eleanor.

I absolutely loved Time and Chance, not just the main story line, but also the wonderfully rich cast of other characters.  I loved hearing the further adventures of Ranulf, the bastard son of Henry I, half-brother of Maud, Henry II's mother, whose allegiances are divided between his loyalty to his English (and Angevine) nephew and his mother's Welsh family.  I also enjoyed reading about the Welsh king and his extended feuding family. Having a lot of sons doesn't necessarily make for a happy home in the 12th century, which is really the subject of the next book in the series, Devil's Brood, which details the further disintegration of Henry II's family as Eleanor and their sons plot against the king.

I think this series would make a fantastic mini-series, along the lines of The White Queen.  Of course, it's hard to imagine a better Eleanor than Katherine Hepburn, but I'm sure there's an actress out there who could prove me wrong.

Monday, January 16, 2017

Agatha Christie = Mary Westmacott

I've always enjoyed Agatha Christie mysteries, so when I discovered that she also wrote non-mysteries under the name Mary Westmacott, I thought I would give one a try.

I found a copy of The Rose and the Yew Tree and it made perfect airplane reading just after Christmas.  It was a fun, interesting little novel, with shades of psychological drama that kept me engaged.  Overall, the premise is pretty implausible but the writing is solid and the structure of the story interesting.

The basic idea is that the narrator, Hugh Norreys is an invalid, paralyzed due to a traffic accident, and so is an observer.  He is convalescing during the close of WWII with his artist brother and political neophyte sister-in-law in Cornwall, where the local election brings a new man, John Gabriel, into the sphere of the resident fading gentry, a couple of elderly sisters and their young ward, Isabella.

The book is a study in class structure, prejudice, and opportunism as well as sexual freedom and limitations, free will, love, and sacrifice.  From a historical perspective, it was interesting to read about the 1945 election in Britain that gave the Labour party victory over Churchill's Conservative party.  Having just finishing watching The Crown, I appreciated the author's take on how that happened.

Sadly, none of the characters are particularly likable, and Isabella is more a symbol than a real person, but I enjoyed the story and didn't guess the way it worked until just before the author revealed all.  At her heart, Christie was a mystery storyteller and this was structured much as her mysteries were with the reader guessing at the outcome right to the end.