#'s 15, 16, and 17...moving it right along.

Well I'm not entirely sure why I waited to finish three books to blog about them, but so it is. I will write about them in the order I finished them. First up, 'Hunting Eichmann' by Neal Bascomb (also...'How a Band of Survivors and a Young Spy Agency Chased Down The World's Most Notorious Nazi '). This is the story of the Israeli team (members of Mossad and Shin Bet) who tracked down and successfully captured Adolf Eichmann, a Nazi war criminal, in Buenos Aires in 1960. I read this book from a variety of perspectives; as a human being, a Jewish woman, an advocate for peace, an avid reader [voraciously eating up non-fiction and 'war stories'] and a lover of all things related to the human psyche and what drives people to do what they do. I don't know what was more profound for me...the description of Eichmann, both as a manager of genocide, and as a pathetic prisoner/kidnap victim...or the depiction of his victims and captors. What was most terrifying to read was the 'company man' mentality that Eichmann boasted and even used as a defense during his trial. As far as he was concerned he was just getting the job done as ordered. He was a brilliant strategist; never photographed or seen personally killing a Jew. However, he sat calmly at his desk and coldly planned the transport and annihilation of millions of Jewish people. What is most profound is that even after the Allies were closing in and things were coming to an end; Eichmann continued to round up as many Jews as possible to prevent their escape and survival. On the other hand, the humanity and humility and pain of the Israeli soldiers who eventually captured Eichmann, was breathtaking. It wasn't just their dedication to the cause (despite grave personal sacrifice) but their unrelenting perseverance, even when their chase seemed futile. Their observation that he was just a pitiable, small, stupid man [upon capture] made their struggles all the more painful to read about. The book was everything that a book of this genre should be. It was exciting, historically on point, moving and appalling. I felt better for knowing the story but also like I could transport myself back in time to hit this disgusting little man until my fists were bloodied. What I marveled at most of all, was how easy it was for these criminals, these distasteful pieces of garbage...to justify the most horrific, inhuman behavior with the simple explanation of 'we were just doing a job, as ordered'. It certainly gives perspective to the sacrifices we make, morally or mentally, for the sake of keeping stable work. It absolutely leads me to take a closer look at the genocide around the world that exists today, and how easy it is for it to spiral out into insanity...and how few of those monsters who 'run the show' are caught and punished for their actions. A difficult but well written book...worth the time it takes.

Another amazing fact that I knew but was painfully reminded of during 'Hunting Eichmann' was how permissive and lax other countries were, including the United States, when it came to dealing with Nazi war criminals. In fact, I consider myself a fairly patriotic person, so I found that detail most distasteful and dismaying. Therefore, it was absolutely ironic that my next book would be 'Founding Brothers' by Joseph J. Ellis; an accounting of the men and events that shaped this 'great' nation. In fact, one of the main subjects of debate between the early Federalist and Republic parties was our involvement [or lack thereof] in foreign affairs. Mr. Ellis focuses his book on a few pivotal moments in the life of the new nation through a description of the deeply intertwined lives [and relationships] of John Adams, Aaron Burr, Benjamin Franklin, Alexander Hamilton, Thomas Jefferson, James Madison, and George Washington. He touches upon the establishment of a capital for the nation, the debate on how the nation would eradicate the [Revolutionary] War debt, the race for the Presidential seat given GW's resignation and many other events and discussions that shaped our nation as we know it today. Most fascinating for me was the idea that politics has always had this supercharged gossipy, nasty element to it. People will often refer to simpler times, and it becomes obvious in the reading of this book, that the early years in this country were anything BUT simple. Actually, an argument can be made to the contrary...that it was these men, their actions, their politics and their lives that set the precedent and foundation for American politics as we know it today. What I didn't expect was the friendships and animosities that these men shared, and how intensely their relationships impacted national and political strategy. I adored the small personal details shared about the men that I would never have learned in a typical history class (ie. Madison's diminuitive stature or John and Abigail Adams political union). I also enjoyed the bigger picture facts that eluded me in school, such as the real arguments for and against slavery. I feel as if every child in the United States should be required to read this book before graduating from high school. Not only does it provide massive food for thought but it gives the founders of our nation a humanness that I never quite considered. That is truly humbling.

And...what better to end a good run with than a completely bonkers, off-the-wall tale? 'NNNNN' by Carl Reiner was at once enjoyable with its quirky sense of humor and interesting characters, but mildly disturbing in its absolutely insanity. Nat Noland, the main character and coincidently, an author, is in the middle of a full throttle mid-life crisis when he happenstances upon his unusual and disturbing origin. Nat's visits to a Viennese analyst lead him to discover his three brothers and the possible root of his nuttiness. While most of the story was utterly fantastical; Nat's talking-to-himself incidents provided fodder for some serious laughter and after two extremely serious novels, it was a welcome relief. This book spans roughly the same number of pages as 'Founding Brothers' and yet I found myself reading this particular tale in half the time. Not the most enjoyable read I have endured, but certainly a breath of fresh air and good for a serious chuckle.

I want to babysit for Ursula Wong.

The main character (sort of) within Ingrid Hill's novel 'Ursula, Under' is a precocious little girl named Ursula Wong. Her dad, Justin, is a Chinese-Polish (yup, you read correctly) blue collar worker and harmonica player (musician if you will). Annie, Ursula's mom, is a quiet but colorful librarian who barely escaped from an alcoholic father not long after her beloved mother died. Annie as a young girl was struck by a car while out riding on her bicycle and as a result, is crippled for life. Given her painful emotional and physical experiences growing up, as well as her love for adventure [and literature], she sets out with her husband to delve deeper into her family's origin; roots, if you will. Fate brings the small family to a former mining town in middle America where Annie searches for the cave where her great-grandfather died, years before. The rambunctious and active Ursula runs down an abandoned road to follow a deer and falls down an old mine shaft, and thus the story begins. I will admit that while I immensely enjoyed each of the mini stories within this novel, the tales of Ursula's ancestors, from which she came to be, I couldn't always follow the lineage trail. I got the general gist, and that coupled with the charm of each story/chapter, gave me a solid appreciation for this book. I found the characters to be likable, sympathetic, exasperating, angering, delightful, and admirable. I read this in just two settings, and with the complexity it boasts chapter to chapter; I might recommend that any reader attempt to do the same. 'Ursula, Under' forced me to question my heritage and wonder about all the great-great grandmothers, grandfathers, aunts, uncles and cousins who have/had stories I have never heard. The fables or stories throughout the book all lend weight to the same question....how do you measure a life? A profound and thoroughly enjoyable novel...and the last before my half-way point. Happy reading!

Lucky number 13...

She did it again. Barbara Kingsolver absolutely blew me right out of the water with 'The Lacuna'.  I feel confident in saying that never has an author so skillfully taken one character's story through three decades in history. What a beautifully written, stunning novel. Harrison William Shepherd is the son of a divorced American (D.C. bound) father and a Mexican mother. A level-headed, calm tempered man and a fiery hot, trendy, passionate woman, came together to borne into this world a character, a man, of great depth, intelligence, talent and ultimately, dignity. This boy who turns into a man between 1929 and 1951, and over the course of 500 pages, is a foreigner wherever he roams. A gringo, or American in Mexico, a Mexican or traitorous Communist in America. Kingsolver demonstrates that she is truly, unquestioningly, a master of the literary trade, as she gently folds into the dough that is Harrison's story, some of the most influential figures in the 20th century; Frida Kahlo, Diego Rivera, Leon Trotsky, etc. The book tells Harrison's story through diaries (his own as well as others), articles, and letters. From the time he is a young boy subject to the every whim of his spontaneous mother to his later-in-life settling down in Asheville, NC; Kingsolver paints Harrison as a wholly likable, completely sympathetic character. The beginning description of the boy's experiences in Mexico were mysterious, colorful and utterly delicious. I found myself loving and hating Frida Kahlo at the same time; wanting her to be reasonable while admiring her fire and genius. I felt as though I could taste on my tongue every pastry the young Harrison prepared, feel every sense of elation when he was singled out and asked to cook or write, and be gutted with every abandonment. Later in the novel, I was taken back to the same period of history I seem to be magnetically drawn to lately, when Harrison is forced to defend himself in front of the Un-American Activities Committee in his adult life. Again, I found it staggering, despite my recent foray into this time period, to fully accept and comprehend the allowable hysteria that spread through this nation, and around the world...turning neighbors, friends and co-workers against one another. It makes me frighteningly aware of how authority figures, whether they be in families, the government, or place of work, have the ability to spin the truth to suit a very dark, and terrible mission. I applaud Ms. Kingsolver in her ability to change Mr. Shepherd's voice as he matures through the years, from an eager child, to a timid but intelligent teenager and then a near celebrity adult. Just like his fans, I think I fell a little in love with Mr. Shepherd by the end of this tale; celebrating and admiring his eloquence (when living his life and defending such as well), his kindness (in dealing with his dear friend and secretary, Ms. Brown) and his deeply rooted and swiftly found passion. The only times I felt the true girth of this novel (and its 500 pages) were each and every occasion where I was forced to set the book down to attend to my 'life' only to return again when time permitted. I urge the reader to persevere. Though the first few chapters are interesting, they are dry as compared to the vivid color and life as the rest of the book. Ms. Kingsolver has, once again, written a lovely and apt to be celebrated, page turner. In one word: breathtaking. 

As if Chihuly wasn't enough of a reason to visit Washington...

Now I absolutely have to go. Stop 1....visit Tacoma and see the Bridge of Light...Step 2, visit Seattle to take a walk through the infamous Panama Hotel. This desire to roam around the West Coast occurred as I finished 'The Hotel on the Corner of Bitter and Sweet', Jamie Ford's debut novel. The story opens in 1986, with Henry, a Chinese-American man, agonizing over whether to enter the Panama Hotel and peruse through belongings left behind by Japanese-Americans during World War II when all were sent to internment camps. Ford deftly moves between the 1940's and the 1980's; unraveling the tale of Henry and Keiko, the Japanese-American girl whom Henry befriends and grows to love. I do not know what was more thrilling about this book, the spot on usage of historical faction or the fairy tale love story that had me from page 1. Ford parallels the strained relationship Henry shares with his son Marty again the difficult relationship he had with his traditional Chinese father [and mother]. The irony lies in the fact that Henry rebuffed his father's attempts at cultural preservation and discipline, and then separated himself from Marty through his clinging to old traditions and superstitions. Although the description of the internment camp(s) is as objective as possible in such a tale, I found myself thoroughly reminded of and horrified by our (humans) capacity for hatred. It made me poignantly aware of today's stereotypes and racism; starkly evident throughout communities, small and large, around the country. Henry's father called to mind not just the danger of hatred, but the capacity humans have for depravity when faced with fear. Though you can smell the sadness and desperation of the characters through Ford's colorful writing style, it doesn't make the danger and small mindedness of it all any more palatable. Although I can see why some might be turned off by the slightly saccharine ending; I would fully enchanted. Given the wounds that Henry was forced to suffer through deliberate deception, hatred, and worst of all, just life at its worst, I cheered at the end.  Better than that, I consider myself to be open minded and liberal, and all loving, but this novel made me acutely aware of the small prejudices that I might carry around, a flaw and a burden. Furthermore, it helped me release them into the wind. That is a solid novel. Four stars, two thumbs up....a MUST READ.

Methinks I misspoke...onto #11...

I just finished ‘The Given Day’ by Dennis Lehane. The story is set in Boston at the beginning of the 20th century and details the lives and experiences of two families, one black and one white. It is a rich tale woven with the multifaceted thread of historical faction. The two main characters are Danny Coughlin (a young cop and son to one of the more corrupt/influential police captains of the time) and Luther Laurence (a young man turned outlaw given an unfortunate run in with a dangerous crime boss). The reason I found this novel so engaging had to do with the deftness with which Lehane was able to interject historical facts (and climate) into a romantic story filled to the brim with family, friendship and love. The book focuses on a time of political unrest, social discord, discrimination, racism, immigration, corruption and revolution. The story only served to ignite my interest in this era; fanning the flames with mention of powerful figures during this time in history (i.e. W.E.B DuBois, Calvin Coolidge and John Hoover), as well a recounting of the origin of the NAACP and the labor unions in this country. During this current time of unrest in the United States, and throughout the world, this book brought to mind the idea that there are always, within the masses, a few individuals that possess a spirit of independence and individuality; an unwavering commitment to an honest truth, no matter the popular sentiment. It brought to the forefront my compassion, understanding and curiosity. Despite the sheer number of characters sprinkled throughout the pages of this book; Lehane was able to give each and every one a magical, or at times infuriating, complexity. Lehane doesn’t shy away from tragedy in order to achieve literary romanticism, but rather paints the misfortune of his characters in such vibrant colors so as to illicit heartbreak from the reader. A successful book to me is one that leaves me wanting for more. More information, more time, just more…and Lehane accomplishes this very task brilliantly.

War and Peace...sort of...

I am a bit behind…what else is new? I finished ‘The Rule of Four’ by Ian Caldwell and Dustin Thomason and ‘Saturday’ by Ian McEwan.

Saturday is a novel set within a single day in the early 2000’s. Henry Perowne, the main character, is successful neurosurgeon who enjoys a trouble free marriage and general home life. What he struggles with is the general state of the world—where we have ended up post-9-11. By ‘we’, I suppose for him it is London but he pessimistically ruminates on the state of the world beyond his singular metropolitan. I am not surprised as I have historically been a fan of Mr. McEwan’s writing, but this particular tale took my breath away. This novel is a singular day described in nearly 300 pages, but it doesn’t feel too long. It feels spirited and achingly beautiful in its depth and detail. The book opens with Henry journeying to a squash game with a colleague, fighting his way through war protests, only to have a rather serious run in with a thug boasting an unusual but identifiable medical condition. While Henry’s verbal pronouncement of his observations (of the young man’s condition) is an attempt to save his life; it only serves to enrage Baxter to the point of provocation. To assert his revenge, Baxter pays a menacing visit to the company filled Perowne home that evening. The events that unfold in those few terrifying hours will give Henry a new lease on life, a new perspective. It will quite literally lift the weight of the world off his shoulders and bring him to a place of peace and acceptance. The writing is in one word, beautiful. Although I could have done without some of the more technical medical terms, it breaks up the sheer emotionality of the story. While Henry tests his psyche, finding new ways to view the world that surrounds him, the reader has a chance to do the same. I seriously contemplated where I was in September of that year and where my path has taken me since. I, like Henry, often take myself and my universe too seriously. I used to think this was to the detriment of some of my relationships and now I realize that those connections just were not meant to be, and I wasn’t my most authentic self. Henry’s thoughts, while profoundly fictional, echoed my own feelings of insecurity. I cannot often say that a book changed my life, but this one came rather close. It sounds dramatic, but it is true. Henry comes to see his family and close relations as his treasures, and I feel exactly the same.

‘The Rule of Four’ by Caldwell and Thomason just helped me get through a long journey to and from Washington D.C. It had everything that I was craving to pass the time…intrigue, mystery, heart and history! It was a delight from start to finish. The main characters, Gil, Paul, Charlie and Tom, are students at Princeton, each coming from a dramatically different upbringing and background. The book really gets going when a murder occurs Easter weekend at the beautiful Ivy League campus and then swirls around the tale of the Hypnerotomachia Poliphili (yes I had to look up the spelling!), a famous text published in Italy in the 1400’s. The most profound impact, at least initially, is on Tom. His father dedicated his life (before perishing in a tragic car crash) to the studying of this baffling manuscript. Tom struggles with his sense of curiosity and obligation and then his desire to have a normal life [with his girlfriend and fellow students]. In the end the mystery wins out and Tom finds himself fully enraptured in the task of code cracking and riddle solving; despite his keen awareness that his document has ruined and destroyed careers, friendships and families. It is difficult to say what I found more absorbing, the ‘coming-of-age’ tale that the authors profoundly weave throughout these pages, or the story that unfolds as these young men travel to the center of the controversy surrounding the Hypnerotomachia. There is a certain sense of the dramatic that permeates this tale, so patience and an imagination are an absolute requirement, but luckily, I have both. The end had me cheering!

Summary: Both books were absolutely delightful…I recommend each wholeheartedly!

And So it Goes...

Why such a long hiatus? It is really hard to say. I suppose I could mutter something about seasonal affective disorder, and hiding in my apartment until the sun came out again. I have been reading, but I’ve been keeping my thoughts to my self I guess; well and sharing them with sundry relatives and friends. The books I’ve finished since my last report are as follows:

Ted Kennedy’s autobiography: True Compass
The Gate House by Nelson DeMille (cheap thrills if you will)
A Long Way Down by Nick Hornby


Currently reading: Saturday by Ian McEwan and The Magus by John Fowles

My first thought is that I absolutely need to step up my reading pace. At this rate, there is no chance that I will get anywhere near close to my goal. I am not even half way there and I have a mere seven months. I feel certain that I will accomplish what I set out to, but I need to get serious. Anyway, enough of this….

One might ask themselves why my fascination with the Kennedy clan runs so deep that I felt compelled to read not one, but two books about the same member of the family [Ted] within a month or so. There are a few lines of thought here. One is that I always like a differing perspective. The story one tells given self reflection is clearly going to differ from an outsider looking in. So, it was obvious to me, after reading Ed Klein’s take on Edward Moore Kennedy, I would need to hear it from the horse’s mouth, so to speak. The book was interesting. It was, in essence, a paradox….filled with surprising self-deprecation and yet an inflated sense of ego. Mr. Kennedy demonstrates a deep understanding for his wrong doings and failings as a man and as a husband, and at the same time trumpets his time spent in politics. The most shocking portrayal was that of the sometimes tense relations between Ted and his brothers; the fierce love sometimes trumped by serious sibling rivalry (only exacerbated by the political arena). I was in no way amazed by Ted’s loving description of his parents, as the Kennedy children have never been supporters of negative press about the infamous Joe and Rose Kennedy. I was touched by the outright praise and adoration expressed towards his children and his second wife, Victoria. I was also impressed with his restraint when speaking of his much abused and speculated about first wife, Joan Bennett. My favorite part of the book was the fascinating insight into the world of the Senate and politics; from the candy desk to the troublesome way one secures a seat on sub-committees. Given Ted Kennedy’s connections and background, it is difficult to discern what is commonly held opinions versus standard fact, but a fascinating look-see nonetheless. I found myself just as affected at the end of this novel as I did Mr. Klein’s rendition of Kennedy’s life. Again, whatever one’s opinion of this man and how he lived his life, he was a liberal minded, socially inspired politician who dedicated his life to making life better for the minorities and discriminated against in this great country of ours. His political legacy is a valuable and awe-inspiring one.

Dad passed along ‘The Gate House’ to me one Sunday morning after finishing it. He didn’t promise any life changing literary experiences but said it gave him a good laugh and was a pleasant distraction. No truer words have ever been spoken. The book was pure delight. I find it distasteful when people read a book of this nature and hold it to greater works of literature and just pick it to shreds. A novel like this, in my opinion, is like dessert. It’s a sweet treat to indulge ones love of tabloid like reporting of world events. This book was meant as a sequel to ‘The Gold Coast’; a DeMille bestseller in which Susan Sutter, the wife of [tax] attorney John Sutter, had a whirl wind affair with Frank Bellarosa, a powerful Mafia boss and the Sutters' neighbor on Long Island, NY; ending in Bellarosa’s demise. After divorcing Susan, John sailed the world for three years, then built himself a new life in London. Now John has returned to the small gatehouse that was once part of his ex-wife's family estate, only to find Bellarosa's thug son, Anthony, living next door. In another coincidence, Susan has just reacquired the guest cottage where she and John lived as a married couple. Susan and John soon begin to explore reconciliation, even as they suspect imminent danger. Although the ending is mildly predictable, the one-liners littered throughout the pages of this novel make it a worth while read. I found myself laughing out loud at some of John Sutter’s wry and sarcastic remarks. Ironically, the speed at which he forgave his wife was mildly frustrating to me and thus the way the story unfolds left me wanting at times, but all in all, a decent read. Great book for travel!

I have been a fan of Nick Hornby for as long as I can remember. My love of British authors goes back to my time in London. There is a unique flavor that is found throughout the pages of most British modern-day writing. ‘A Long Way Down’ begins with four characters meeting on the roof of a building to jump off on New Years Eve. That is not entirety accurate as they don’t intentionally meet, but rather end up there, together, by some strange twist of fate. Four desperate individuals—Martin, a disgraced TV personality; Maureen, a middle-aged woman with no life beyond caring for her severely disabled adult son; Jess, a young woman who’s life is overshadowed by the disappearance of her older sister; and JJ, an American rocker whose music career has just ended are bonded together by their utter misery. Although the story line tends towards the ridiculous, as is with Hornby’s typical style, there is a profound sentiment that circles throughout. This is best illustrated with a quote by Jess near the beginning of the story as follows: "When you're sad—like, really sad, Toppers' House sad—you only want to be with other people who are sad." OR…misery loves company. This is such an interesting thought to me because it really resonates with me. At times when things are most difficult, we tend to not want to be around those that are basking in the joy of their happy lives. Though it should give us hope that things will pick up or turnaround, it tends to give us this woe-is-me complex; a feeling that good things only happen to other people. As with many a Horby character, these four are all at once like-able, worthy of compassion and disgraceful and wearisome. I found myself asking why they made the decisions they did, and yet understanding that their actions were not brought on by depravity, but rather a sort of blatant hopelessness. It takes a human sentiment and conflict that is real and relatable and magnifies it with humor and grace. I love that this book, while not happily ever after, has a silver-lining-on-the-cloud sort of joy. All for now...